


Growing Heart

by xanaphorax



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016), Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: Bullying, F/M, Peer Pressure, Teenage Drama, Underage Drinking, family member illness, influences from The Spectacular Now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:11:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanaphorax/pseuds/xanaphorax
Summary: Finding Steve Harrington passed out in your backyard was the last way you expected to start your day. But here you were, spending the day running errands with him and helping him find his misplaced car.





	Growing Heart

“Um, hello?” You hovered over the limp body in your backyard. You took a hesitant step forward, and then, thinking better of it, stepped back. It’s wasn’t like the person looked violent–he was dressed in a Members Only jacket, and if you had to guess based on the dark wash, Jordache jeans. You just weren’t entirely sure how someone would react to waking up in the middle of a stranger’s yard with a random girl standing over him.

“Hello? Are you ok?” you raised your voice a little. It didn’t seem to have any effect. A small, gnawing feeling of anxiety began to eat away at your stomach. He should have woken up by now. If not by your doing, at least by the fact that it was light out, even if the trees did sort of block the sun.

“ _Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,”_  you chanted in your head as you reached down and took hold of his ankle, shaking his leg. The body let out a groan, and you jumped back, watching as he life seemed to seep back into him. He lifted the arm that had been flung over his face in a stretch and you gasped a little.

What was  _Steve Harrington_ doing in your backyard?

Steve’s face scrunched in confusion as he lifted himself half up, looking around. And then, his eyes landed on you. “Uh, hi?” he greeted, his voice gravelly from sleep.

“Hi,” you greeted, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“What–” Steve started, before he stopped and ran a hand over his face. “Where am I?”

“You’re, um, kind of in my backyard.” You glanced over at your house and then down at Steve.

“Your backyard,” Steve repeated, pushing himself the rest of the way up so he was sitting. You nodded, not sure what to say. A small silence settled between you as Steve continued to work through his confusion, you watching the various stages on his face. “What time is it?” he finally asked, looking back up at you.

You checked your watch. “A little past ten,”

“Past ten,” Steve pushed out a breath, almost as if in disbelief. His brow furrowed again. “Were you letting me sleep?”

Your face grew hot, and you quickly shook your head, “No, I’m just the first one out of my house, and we don’t really check the backyard for visitors, y'know?”

Steve let out a breathy laugh, and you smiled. It had been a bit of a surprise walking out your back door to see him laying in your backyard. Sure, you’d found the occasional woodland creature. Your house bordered with the woods, so that made sense. What didn’t make sense was a boy you hadn’t talked to in  _years_  suddenly appearing on the grass.

“How did you get here?” you asked, realizing a bit too late that while the question made sense to you, Steve hadn’t had the opportunity to follow your internal thoughts. But he didn’t seem to care. He bent his head down, staying silent for a moment before shaking his head.

“I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember anything about last night?” you asked.

“No,” Steve shook his head again.

“Do you think you walked?”

“I usually have my car,” Steve said, slowly. You hummed at this, and silence once again overtook the two of you, only interrupted by the sounds of birds fluttering around.

“Well, I’m on my way to Benny’s. Want to come?” you offered. Steve looked up at you, surprise overtaking his face. You flushed. “You just, seem like you could use a coffee,” you mumbled. “And on the way, we can look for your car because it’s definitely not here.”

“Really?” Steve asked, cocking his head to the side. “You’re willing to take a stranger you found passed out on your lawn out to breakfast?”

“You’re not really a stranger,” you stared down at your shoes. “We go to school together.”

“Shit,” Steve swore, “Sorry. My head’s still not…” he trailed off. “Sorry.” He stood up finally.

“It’s fine,” you shook your head. “Y/N,” you said, pointing to yourself.

“Y/N,” Steve echoed. He stood back for a second, giving you a once over.

“What?” you asked, crossing your arms and tucking your shoulders slightly. 

“Nothing,” Steve said, after a short pause. “I just…feel like I should have known that.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Then again, you didn’t know what to say half the time. Long pauses and awkward silences were kind of your thing. Your mother always said it was because you were a sensitive soul and a listening spirit. You attributed to the fact that after your brief stint in the popular circle back in sixth grade, you’d learned that it was safer, happier, all around better to just keep your mouth shut and head down.

“So, ready?” you asked, gesturing with your head to the side of your house, where your car was parked.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

* * *

The ride to Benny’s had been quick and relatively painless. The only time it had grown a little uncomfortable was after you realized you had no classes together because you were in all honors classes and Steve was…not. It was hard to talk school–the one thing you seemed to have in common–after that.

So, instead, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, looking out the window and searching the streets for his car. In the fifteen minute drive to the diner, there had been no sign of the “red BMW” anywhere, and you could tell from the way his shoulders drooped and how he was muttering to himself, that he was pretty concerned about it.

“Are you sure you didn’t just walk out of your front door?” you asked, as you closed your car door and walked up to the front of Benny’s.

“Yeah, my house isn’t really a walkable distance from anything,” Steve said, coming around to hold the door open for you. You thanked him and walked in, asking the waitress for a table for two. She nodded, grabbed a couple of menus, and escorted you to a booth in the back.

“Well, maybe after some food, you’ll remember,” you suggested. Steve didn’t say anything in response, but his face looked doubtful.

At the word food, a waitress seemed to materialize from out of nowhere, appearing at your table with yellow pad and pen ready, a smile plastered onto her face. “Hi, welcome to Benny’s. Can I get you kids started with something to drink?”

“Two coffees, please,” you asked, giving your own, decidedly more genuine smile. She scribbled it down.

“Comin’ right up,” she tapped your table lightly and walked away. You turned back to Steve who was rubbing the back of his neck.

“So, I realized in the car…I don’t have my wallet on me. I would have said something sooner, but–”

“Don’t worry about it,” you cut him off. “I got this.”

“No, you don’t have to. I’m good with just the coffee, and once we find my car, I swear I’ll pay you back.”

“Steve, it’s fine,” you said. “I’m happy to do it.” 

Steve jerked his head, casting a searching look at you. 

“What?” you asked, giving an uncomfortable smile. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“I swear, I know you from somewhere. And not just like seen you around, you know?” You looked away out at the other diners. There was a family of three a few booths down, the dad desperately attempting to wrangle is son into a seat so he would stop peeking over the booth at the little girl sitting with her family behind them. A young couple sat, holding hands on one side of the basket of fries while using the other to feed each other fries. Another girl was looking at them with a look of disgust. She rolled her eyes before going back to talk to a hidden companion.

You felt as if you should help Steve out, but you didn’t really want to open that chapter of your life. Sixth grade was best left in the history books.

“Maybe I just have one of those faces,” you said, leaning on your elbow.

“I don’t think so,” Steve shook his head.

You were saved from the rest of this conversation by the waitress coming back with the coffee. She set the two cups down, filling each up almost to the brim. You were going to have to make a sacrifice in order to get your two creamers in.

“Ready to order?” she asked, pad once more at the ready.

“I think we need a few more minutes,” you asked, and she nodded, walking away. You turned back to the menu. You’d been coming here so long, you should have memorized the menu by now, but instead each time you came, it was like the first time you’d ever even been to a diner before. All options had to be weighed, all pages scoured to make sure you were getting the best possible meal. Breakfast or Lunch? Savory or sweet? Waffles, pancakes, or french toast? What kind of french toast? Scratch that, you didn’t want any of those. Did you actually want something sweet anyway?

It took Steve a little over a minute to decide what he wanted, but by the time the waitress came back, you were still in between three options.

By the time he ordered, you were down to two.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll have…” you trailed off, before finally deciding to just order what you normally got. “The chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Sausage or bacon?” Oh, great.

You looked between the waitress and Steve, quickly trying to weigh the benefits of each and what you were in the mood for now and what you would be in the mood for after you ate chocolate chip pancakes. “Um, S–Bacon,” you decided. “I’ll have the bacon.”

She nodded, holding out her hand for the menu and you gave it to her.

“Not much of a decision maker, are you?” Steve asked, smiling at you.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, giving the smallest smile.

“Thought we were going to be stuck here ‘til close,” he continued, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I just want to make sure that if I order something, I don’t end up wishing that ordered something else,” you defended, lifting your own drink to your lips. You tentatively sipped the bitter drink, recoiling and holding it away from you. Disgusting.

Steve laughed. “Like your coffee?”

“No.” You put the mug down, taking out two creamers and a packet of sugar. “It was just too full to make it the way I like.” You peeled the wrapper off of each creamer, dumping them into your coffee. “Sometimes you have to sacrifice for the things you love,” you shrugged, tearing open the sugar.

“I got it!” Steve shouted, banging the table with a hand before pointing a finger at you.

You jumped in your seat, jerking your hands back and pouring sugar all over the table. Steve laughed again, as you put the packet down and attempted to sweep the sugar into your hand.

“You dated Tommy in sixth grade,” Steve shook his finger at you. “Before Carol.”

You were found out.

“If you can even call it dating,” you mumbled, dumping the sugar into your napkin, and grabbing a replacement packet.

“It was dating,” Steve affirmed, dropping his finger. “He had to call you every night, and you two constantly passed notes in class, and you always sat next to each other at lunch.” A flush crept up your neck, extending to your cheeks which turned a light shade of pink. “And you used to always give him your pudding cup because you knew how much he liked them. He’d ask, 'are you sure’ and you’d say 'I’m happy to do it’ or 'Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for those you love’ or something like that.”

Your cheeks turned even pinker. “Oh my goodness.” You had buried the fact that you thought you loved Tommy. It was up there in the most embarrassing things you’d ever done. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“It was like  _the_ standard for girlfriends in sixth grade.”

“Oh my goodness, stop,” you said, covering your face with your hands, and Steve chuckled.

“Like, if I ever dated someone who gave me their pudding cup, I’d marry her.”

“Steve!” you called out, dropping your hands to look at him. His wide smile was dripping with satisfaction. “Jerk,” you mumbled, trying (and failing) to keep the smile from your face.

“Whatever happened to you?” Steve asked. You snorted at this question. “I mean, you just sort of disappeared. I liked you.”

“Clearly. Couldn’t even remember who I was,” you shook your head, dodging the question.

“I did eventually!” Steve argued back. “So, come on, where’d you go?”

“I found new friends after you guys sort of turned on me,” you shrugged.

Steve’s face shifted from amused to confused, his eyebrows drawing together and mouth hanging slightly open. And then, his eyes widened as recognition dawned on him, a small “Oh,” coming out.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. It was sixth grade.”

“It’s not fine,” Steve said, his voice quiet but firm. He was right. It wasn’t fine. Tommy had cheated on you by kissing Carol. You had only found out because Carol was talking about it with her friend in the bathroom. She either hadn’t noticed you were in the stall or hadn’t cared. When you confronted him about it, he blamed it on you and the fact that you wouldn’t kiss him. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to. You had really liked him. You guys were the longest lasting couple in the sixth grade at the time, going on four whole months. You had just been too nervous to ever let him kiss you. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst of it was that you hadn’t wanted to lose him to Carol, so you kissed him after he told you that you were the reason.

And he told you Carol was a better kisser.

And then word got around to everyone that you weren’t a good kisser. Even the teachers; several had pulled you aside to tell you that you were too young to be kissing boys.

It had been excruciatingly embarrassing.

And Steve had gone along with all of Tommy and Carol’s antics, even supported them. He let you fall away, and it had hurt. But, in the long run, you had found a better group of friends because of it. So while it still sucked, it was for the best.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit,” Steve said, raking a hand through his hair.

It was at that point of time that the waitress appeared with your breakfast. She reached in between you two, placing Steve’s eggs, toast, and bacon in front of him and your pancakes and bacon in front of you, effectively pausing your conversation.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked, looking between you and Steve. You shook your head at her, noticing Steve’s eyes were still on you.

“I think we’re fine, thanks.”

“Well, just give a shout if you need anything.” In the next second, she was gone.

“Y/N–” Steve started.

“Really, don’t worry about it. I don’t hold it against you or anything. Obviously.”

“You should.” Steve finally looked away from you, picking up his fork to dig into his eggs.

“Why?” you asked, picking up your own silverware to cut into your pancakes. “You’re a different person now. I’ve seen you with that middle school kid who you drive home sometimes? Old Steve would never do that.”

“Middle school kid,” Steve mouthed, looking confused. It seemed like he spent much of his life this way. And then suddenly his eyes lit up. “Oh, Dustin.”

“Are you like mentoring him or…?” you asked, taking a bite out of your pancakes. Delicious. You should really stop pretending like you could ever order anything else.

“It’s kind of a babysitting/mentoring kind of thing, I guess,” Steve explained, taking a sip out of his coffee. “I know, I seem the type,” Steve rolled his eyes at himself.

“You do seem the type.” Although your voice was quiet, it was earnest, and it drew Steve’s attention back to you.

“I do,” he repeated, disbelieving.

“You’re a natural leader. It makes sense you’d take on this type of thing. Especially since you recently grew a heart,” You punctuated the sentence with another bite of pancakes.

“I recently grew a heart?” Steve echoed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, mouth still full of pancake. You swallowed before continuing, “You have to be heartless in order to hang out with Tommy and Carol. Once you ditch them, it starts coming in. It’s about a six-month process.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head.“So how come you had one back then?”

“I didn’t.” It was your turn to look confused. “Don’t you remember how I made Allison Burns cry in the middle of class that one time?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve said, looking at you with what was almost wonder.

You breathed out a laugh. “You really don’t remember middle school at all, do you? I only cared about you guys because you were my friends. I may have been the good one of our group, but I was far from a person with a heart.”

“Well, it seems like yours has come in just fine,” Steve said, gesturing at you. “Taking someone who used to be asshole to you out to breakfast and everything.”

“Life’s too short to be angry about stuff that happened six years ago,” you shrugged. “There are bigger problems in the world.”

Steve snorted. “You’ve got that right.”

You didn’t question him. Instead, you switched the topic to basketball and how the season was going and spent the rest of the breakfast talking about everything and nothing.

“So, where to?” you started, looking over at Steve in the passenger seat.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want me to drop you off at your house? Or is there a friend who can maybe help you look for your car? I would, but I have a bunch of errands that I have to run.”

“You know, I love errands,” Steve said. You shot him a look. “Really. I do.”

“It’s going to take like, all afternoon.”

“I have no plans,” Steve shrugged. “Unless, you’d rather be by yourself.”

“No, no,” you said, quickly. “It’s just…no one  _really_  likes errands.”

“Maybe,” Steve gave in. “But how else am I going to make up for the fact that I was a huge asshole? Plus, maybe we’ll find my car along the way. ”

“Are you sure?” you asked. You knew Steve was a new person, growing a heart and everything, but this seemed like a lot even for him.

“Positive.”

* * *

This car ride wasn’t as silent as the first one. There still wasn’t much of a conversation, though. You had made the mistake of asking Steve what he usually spent his Saturdays doing. This had led to a full on rant about Dustin and all of his friends and how they consistently dragged him into playing this game or that and chauffeuring them around town. He didn’t stop until you pulled into the parking lot of the library.

You opened your door, climbing out and heading around to the back of the car. You reached down and grabbed your books before noticing that Steve hadn’t moved. “You’re just going to wait in the car?” you asked.

Steve jumped a little before turning in his seat to face you. “Uh, yeah.”

“Another arcade situation?” Steve had spent a good amount of time on the arcade and how he didn’t ever want to go on his own anymore because he was constantly there with the party.

“Not exactly,” Steve flushed.

Your eyes widened. “What did you do?”

“I may have come here with Nancy a few times,” Steve started, rubbing the back of his neck. “And uh, the librarian might have caught me…distracting her a few times.”

It was your turn to blush. “Oh.”

“Not like that!” Steve sputtered. “It was just…I…She won’t let me in anymore…” He trailed off, looking anywhere but you.

You laughed, even though you were sure your face was bright red. “I’ll just go in by myself.”

“I’ll, uh, make sure that no one steals the car or anything,” Steve said, turning back around in his seat. “And keep it warm.”

“How thoughtful,” you quipped, closing the door on him and hurrying in to face the librarian.

“Are you allowed in here?” you asked, gesturing to the post office.

Steve side-eyed you. “Yes.”

“You sure?” you opened your car door. “Never picked any fights with a postal worker or anything?”

“You’re very funny,” Steve snapped, lightly, throwing his door open.

You smiled over at him, and he rolled his eyes, shutting the door.

The two of you walked into the post office, the bell over the door jingling. There was already a line. Of course. You let out a frustrated groan.

“What?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“This is going to take forever,” you grumbled.

Steve smirked down at you. “Not a fan of waiting?”

You glared up at him. “Is anyone?”

“No, but you really hate it don’t you?” There was a glimmer in Steve’s eye. You didn’t trust it.

“Why?” you asked, slowly.

“No reason,” he turned to face ahead of the line.

Behind you, the bell chimed and another person walked in. Steve looked over his shoulder. You had a bad feeling.

“Excuse me, ma'am, if you want to go ahead of us, it looks like you have your hands full.”

The woman blinked at Steve, looking down at the medium sized box she held in her arms. “Oh, uh, ok, thank you,” she said, stepping around you and Steve.

Your glare intensified.

“Look at it this way, we just get to spend more time together,” Steve nudged you with his shoulder.

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

* * *

You spent forty-five minutes in the post office. Every time somebody new would enter, Steve would find some excuse for them to get in front of you. And then he would ask you a new question.

“Do you remember Crazy Carrie?”

“Where are you applying to college?”

“What do you want to major in?”

“Do you have any pets?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“What’s your favorite band?”

And while for the first twenty or so minutes, you spent the entire conversation shooting daggers at Steve, by the time you finally reached the front you had stopped focusing on how much time you were wasting spending there when you could be getting back home to your mom.

In fact, you even let him pull the same stunt at the dry cleaners.

* * *

“Hey, it’s your favorite song,” Steve said, turning up the volume in the car as Duran Duran’s “Rio” came on.

“It’s such a good song,” you smiled, your body starting to bounce along, dancing as best as you could in the car. Steve laughed at you.

“It’s alright.”

“Alright?” you turned on him. “It’s gold.”

Listen to that you said, pausing for the electronic runs in the music. You shook your head grinning, and then, you couldn’t help it.

_“Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand_  
Just like that river twisting through a dusty land  
And when she shines she really shows you all she can  
Oh Rio, Rio dance across the Rio Grande”

You turned to Steve who was smiling at you. “Come on, Steve, I know you know the words.”

He rolled his eyes, looking out the window. You wondered for a moment if for some reason you had crossed a boundary didn’t realize existed. And then in the next second, he whipped around to you, holding his fist up like a microphone.

_“I’ve seen you on the beach and I’ve seen you on TV Two of a billion stars it means so much to me_  
Like a birthday or a pretty view  
But then I’m sure that you know it’s just for you”

You laughed as he started dancing in his seat, joining in with him for the chorus.

The two of you sat in the car for an extra couple of minutes so you could finish out the song before you finally got out of the car to enter the grocery store.

* * *

“How about this? You need this?” Steve asked, holding up a jar of peanut butter.

It was as if you had brought a five-year-old to go food shopping with you. Every single aisle, Steve would run down it grabbing the most random thing he could find before bringing it back and asking if you needed it. Never mind the fact that you  _told_  him you had a list and a limited budget. When he realized that you were going to say no to anything, it became a game of him putting things in your cart, and you trying to catch the extra items and send him to put them back. As a result, shopping had taken almost three times longer than it normally did.

“I still have like half a jar at home,” you sighed. “Put it back.”

His shoulders dropped and he walked away, going to put it back. You shook your head smiling, and continued to push the cart down the aisle. You watched Steve as he came back up the aisle to meet you. A soft smile crept up on you. Never would you have guessed that you’d be going food shopping with Steve Harrington. You also never would have guessed that you’d find him passed out in your yard. The thought tickled at the back of your mind, your thoughts drifting back to the morning.Why had he been in your yard? What had he done last night? And why was he so cool with giving up his Saturday to run errands with  _you_?

“Y/N!” Steve called out, pulling you from your thoughts as he came rushing back with something new in his hands. “You’ve got to get this.” He pushed a pack of chocolate pudding cups towards you.

You laughed and shook your head. “No.”

“Oh come on, for old time’s sake,” Steve argued, already putting them into the cart.

“Steve–I–” you paused, looking at his eager and open face. He raised his eyebrows at you. “Fine,” you relented. It was beautiful, really, seeing his whole face light up. You almost asked if he wanted to get a second.

* * *

You had barely parked the car in front of the car before Steve was unbuckling and getting out. “Steve?” you asked, looking out the passenger side door at him. He bent into the car. “I got this, you just sit here.” He started to close the door and paused, leaning back in. “Do you have a credit card?

You nodded, reaching into your back pocket and pulling out your mom’s credit card. Steve took it and then withdrew from the car, coming around to the side. You rolled down your window, crossing your arms on the opening and leaning out of the window. "Thanks,” you said, watching as Steve stood by the back, filling your car up.

“No problem,” he shot you a smile.

“I’ll take you home next. I just need your address,” you said, watching as he ran a hand through his hair. Your heart fluttered a bit, and you got a sick feeling in your stomach.  _No, Y/N,_ you chided yourself.

“You’re done all of your errands?” Steve asked.

“Pretty much,” you shrugged. “I just have one more.”

“One more? I can stick it out,” Steve nodded to himself as he watched the gallons and the price go up.

“Are you sure?” you bit your lip.

“Yeah, of course,” he dismissed, making a face as if you were crazy for thinking he wouldn’t be into getting dragged along to one more place. “I’m in it 'til the end. Plus, you’ll probably need help bringing all the groceries in, right?”

“I can manage–”

“And anyway, maybe we’ll find my car on the way there.”

You had made your way across town, and still hadn’t found any sign of Steve’s car. He seemed fairly ok about the whole thing. At least, more so than he had that morning.

“If you’re sure.”

He took his eyes away from the gas pump, fixing them on yours. “I’m sure.” Your heart jumped. Great.

* * *

You noticed the change in Steve as soon as you pulled into the parking lot of the pharmacy. He just slowly grew quieter and…stiller. You swallowed hard as you walked in and straight for the counter, Steve lagging behind slightly.

“Hi, Y/N,” the pharmacist greeted you with a warm smile.

“Hi,” you gave a small smile back.

“Just give me a second,” he said, turning his back to you and moving to the shelf where prescriptions were kept.

You waited in silence, Steve coming up to stand by your side. A minute dragged by. Then two.

“Here you are,” the pharmacist said, reaching across and passing it over to you. You took the bag, and smiled, turning around and walking out the door. Steve didn’t say anything until you were in the car.

“Are you…” he started, hesitatingly.

“My mom,” you looked away from him as you pulled out of the parking spot.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“It’s fine,” you shook your head, attempting to give him a smile. “I mean it’s not. It sucks, but she’s been sick for almost a year now, so I’m kind of used to it.”

Steve nodded, slowly.

“I mean, I’m not used to it,” you shook your head. “It’s still weird. You know? I’m the one doing the errands and stuff since dad…” you stopped yourself again. “It just is what it is. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for those you love.”

“Y/N…”

“Thanks for keeping me company today, Steve. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

“Anytime.” His voice was quiet.

So was the rest of your drive to your house.

* * *

Steve helped you unload and unpack all of the groceries. Your mother was still in her bedroom. She spent most of her time in there nowadays. Between the two of you, you managed to speed the process along a bit, and soon you were ready to drop Steve back at home.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find your car,” you said, climbing back into the driver’s seat. “And that you had to spend the whole day going on errands with me. And for dumping my family junk on you like that.”

“Hey, I was happy to…” he stopped, and the familiar look of realization crossed his face. “I know where my car is.”

* * *

You pulled up right behind Steve’s BMW at the Hawkins’ junkyard.

“This is you?” you asked, casting a glance over at Steve. He had the same face on that he did at the pharmacy. He nodded, numbly. “Are you ok?” you asked.

Steve swallowed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He still didn’t get out of the car.

“Do you…can I…you don’t have to answer this, but, why were you at the junkyard?” you stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling as awkward as you had this morning.

Steve shook his head. His eyes were distant as he looked out the windshield to the junkyard. “I…It's…Sometimes I come here when I can’t sleep,” he murmured. Your face creased with concern.

“Do you mind if we just sit here a bit?” Steve asked. “I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want to get back in my car just yet.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yeah, we can sit here.”

* * *

You sat in your car, listening to the radio until it grew dark. To be fair, it couldn’t have been more than forty-five minutes or so. You’d taken most of the afternoon to run errands, and even though the winter was melting into spring, the the sun still crept in at a fairly early hour.

“You got any secrets?” Steve asked, looking over at you. You jolted a little bit, pulled out of your thoughts. For the most part, you had both been quiet for the better part of the hour. Steve, thinking about whatever it was that kept him from your car, and your thoughts drifting back to your mom.

You snorted, looking over at him. “Really? This game?”

“Come on, it was a bunch of fun,” Steve nudged you. It seemed like he was starting to come back to himself.

“It got us into a lot of trouble with other people,” you shook your head.

“So we’ll keep it about you and me. Here, I’ll go first. I cheated on Mr. Walter’s test last week.”

“No!” you gasped.

“Yeah, I need to pass so I can play, so I looked over Dana Corddry’s shoulder. Now, your turn.”

You paused, thinking about it for a second. “I stole twenty bucks from my mom.”

“You?” Steve went wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” you turned away to look out the window.

“Why?” Something about Steve’s voice entreated you to look at him, but you couldn’t. The guilt was bad enough to deal with without having to add whatever disappointment and surprise you were bound to find on his face.

“So I could treat myself to breakfast at Benny’s. Maybe get a new book or a movie or something after I finished all the errands.” You took a page from Steve’s book and ran a hand through your hair. “It’s stupid, but I just wanted a break.”

“Wait,” Steve paused. “Did you use the money you were going to use to treat yourself to buy my breakfast?”

You shrugged. “You needed it.”

“Y/N.”

“Just tell me a secret.” You didn’t want to stay on the topic any longer. You could feel Steve still staring at you before he turned to look out the windshield.

“My hair isn’t naturally this luxurious. It takes product.”

“No.” The smallest of smiles played at your lips.

“Yes.”

“What product?” The smile on your face grew as you started running through all of the potential hair care products he could use.

“That stays a secret.”

“For now,” you said, the smile growing on your face.

“For now,” Steve agreed. You glanced over at him out of the corner of your eye and could see that he was smiling too.

“Hmm….” you paused, scouring your brain for another one. “I don’t actually have a driver’s license.”

“ _What?_ ” Steve jerked forward, before whipping around to face you.

You burst into laughter, looking at his shocked and horrified face. “I’m just kidding. I couldn’t think of anything.”

“Come on, you can’t think of  _any_ secret? _”_ Steve pushed.

You bit your lip and looked back out the windshield. The sky was a brilliant orange fading into a dark purple. It was easier to look at the sunset then him.

“I don’t know if I want to go to college,” you confessed.

“I don’t know if I can go to college,” his voice was just as small as yours had been.

“And I don’t sleep anymore,” a lump had grown in your throat.

“Me neither.” His voice was so sad and tinged with longing. You didn’t like the sound.

There was a long pause between the two of you as you continued staring ahead at the ever sinking sun. “I’m scared of what’s going to happen to my mom.”

You weren’t sure if he heard–your voice was so quiet. And then, Steve reached over and took your hand.

“Hey,” he said softly, and you turned your head to look at him. His hazel eyes bore into yours, and he looked so earnest and so determined, that your heart felt as if it would burst. “It’ll be alright.” A pressure grew in your chest, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the way he was looking at your or the thoughts that you had been pushing down for so long, finally coming bubbling up.

“I don’t think it will be,” you whispered.

“Even if it isn’t, I’ll be here,” he squeezed your hand.

You squeezed back. “Thanks.”

You two looked at each other for a minute more in silence, letting it wrap itself around you, so much more comfortably than it had earlier.

“I wish I had grown a heart sooner,” Steve broke the silence, but not the eye contact.

“I wish I had found you in my yard sooner.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed out a laugh, squeezing your hand again. “You know how you said you didn’t realize how much you needed the company today?”

You nodded.

“I didn’t either.”

You smiled, and Steve smiled back, and you stayed in your car like that until the sun finally disappeared, only letting Steve leave with the promise that he’d see you tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a request on Tumblr: Can you write a Steve x Reader where it’s kind of like that scene in the Spectacular now and Steve ends up like drunk and passed out in the readers front yard and that’s how they meet?


End file.
